A Little
by Card Carrying Villains
Summary: Or: four ways the Hard Master didn't survive, and one way he did  from a certain point of view . Rated T for a little bit of swearing and death. By Jokers


A fic by Jokers

Index:

1 In which Zartan has a little more faith in his master

2 In which Storm Shadow pays a little more attention

3 In which the Dan's family cares a little more about his wellbeing

4 In which Zartan arrives a little earlier

5 In which canon is followed to the letter

**Trust**

"Very good," Zartan couldn't be sure if Onihashi was smiling, but the sword smith sure sounded as though he was. Which was fine, because Zartan was smiling too. The master of disguise had finally managed a decent Hamon line, a fact which he was very proud of. Turning, Zartan saw that his teacher was indeed grinning softly at him, a fact which somehow made him even prouder. Sometimes, the shape shifter wondered what he enjoyed more: making swords, or the praise the Professor gave him afterward.

"We have been working all day, and you have made more progress than I expected. Why don't we take a break," Zartan knew better than to pass up a chance to take a break. He probably wouldn't get another in a long while. Setting the newly forged sword down carefully, Zartan leaned against the wall of the workshop and wiped the sweat off his face. Onihashi left the room, stating that he had to retrieve some materials, which was odd given how prepared the older man normally was. Zartan followed the man with his eyes and, as soon as he was gone, sighed. Shutting his eyes, Zartan slid down the wall and contemplated.

Contemplation was not a common practice for the red haired man and he would have avoided it if possible. It wasn't, though, not right now. Now, when he was about to finish his job; now, when he was feeling truly happy for the first time in his memory; now, when a certain snake-themed terrorist was poised to tear it all down. Bashing his head against the wall once, twice, three times, Zartan remembered his last meeting with the Cobra Commander. Zartan had attempted to call off the hit on Snake Eyes, but the Commander had simply leaned forward and informed him, very sweetly, that no such thing would happen. That he would tell Onihashi of Zartan's part in the whole thing and everything Zartan had built would crumble.

Onihashi cleared his throat, pulling Zartan from his thoughts, "now now, don't fall asleep on me." The man was holding two earthen-ware mugs of tea, one of which he handed to Zartan. Zartan accepted it, muttering a thank you and staring blankly at the dark liquid. He knew from experience that it would be bitter, but his previous line of thought had left him too tired to care. He forced himself to take a sip and managed not to wince when the hot beverage burned his throat. Looking up, Zartan saw Onihashi looking at him, looking concerned, "Better? Good. That means you can tell me what's bothering you. Don't worry, you can tell me anything. I trust you."

'_Maybe now you do, but somehow I think you wouldn't feel the same if I told you I was sent to murder one of your clan mates. And frame your masters' nephew for it.'_ Zartan's grip on the cup tightened to the point of near-shattering. No, he couldn't tell Onihashi anything, because it would ruin everything. But…Zartan looked at the Professor, measuring the sincerity of his expression. Suddenly, their first conversation comes to mind, Onihashi's quiet sureness that there was an impurity in Zartan. An impurity that Onihashi would do his best to cleanse._'And here I thought you were bullshitting me, old man, with your second chance mumbo jumbo.'_

Taking a deep breath, Zartan made a decision: "Actually, master, I do have something to tell you."

**Catch**

Tommy took a deep breath, exhaling with more force than was strictly necessary. He wasn't mad, not really, but convincing himself that he _was_ angry would at least clear up some of his confusion.

'_He wants to make Snake Eyes clan master? Why? I know I'm not as good, but surely I'm not that inadequate. I could try harder. I could train harder. It's because of the Seeing Ear training, isn't it? Fine, I won't kill small animals anymore…God, I sound like a sociopath when you put it that way, don't I? Okay. That's settled. But really, killing squirrels shouldn't be so terrible. I mean, come on, we're __**ninja **__for Crissakes and ninja don't exactly get points for moral-'_Tommy's line of thought was cut off by a faint whistle coming from somewhere of to his left. It wasn't much, but anyone trained by the Arashikage would recognize the whistle-like noise of a deadly projectile speeding through the air.

Reaching out, the Young Master plucked the arrow from the air and looked down at it. Rage filled him as he noticed that it was one of _his._ The arrow broke in half in his grip, and the young shinobi was off and running in the direction of the shot. He would find the person who tried to frame him, and then he would kill them. He could sort out this whole succession business later.

**Acoholic's Anonymous**

Dan pulled the screen door shut behind him, taking a swig of the whiskey bottle in his hand. He frowned when not a drop reached his lips. Swearing angrily, the man threw the bottle. It hit the wall and shattered, not quite as dramatically as he wanted it to, but he couldn't be choosy.

"Dan," the voice was probably questioning him, but it was too quiet to be sure. Either way, he didn't like the tone.

"What," Dan tried to snarl, but it came out far too slurred to seem menacing. He snapped his head in the direction of the voice, wincing at the vertigo which followed the sudden movement. The dizziness didn't help his mood, and neither did the fact that his mother was the one calling him. She was likely attempting yet another intervention.

"Honey, we need to talk."

Dan didn't say anything. He didn't need to; he had already told them all exactly how he felt about their attempts to "save him". No need to repeat himself, it would just be wasted air. Turning on his heels, the big man stalked out of the house, shutting the door with a little more force than was necessary. At least she didn't try to follow him. Dan might have been furious with her, but that didn't mean he wanted to hit her with a door.

Dan shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Now that the operation "go home and take a long nap" was a bust, he needed something else to do. Maybe he would go for a drive. Yeah, that sounded good. It would keep his mind off of the fact that he had just stormed out on his _ma_. Upon reaching his truck, however, Dan discovered one problem: his little brother was sitting in the driver's seat.

"There's only one place I'll drive you to, and somehow I don't think you'd appreciate the sentiment if I did," For just one moment, Dan contemplated strangling his younger sibling. Then, however, he realized what he had just been considering and blanched.

"Come on, bro. Just talk to us," Dan looked at his brother's face; noting how anxious the younger man was, how pleading his voice sounded. Finally, he gave up. He would go along with their stupid treatment program, or whatever was in style these days, and as soon as it was over he could go back to where he started. Aware that he was likely sealing his own fate, Dan gave a wordless nod and turned back to the house. Yeah, he would play along. For now.

Then, he felt his little brother wrap his arms around him and thought that, just maybe, sobriety wasn't such a bad idea.

Two hours later a blonde, bandaged army ranger was tackled by his twin sister, who was completely unaware of how close she came to death that day. She certainly didn't know how her continued survival would save the life of an elderly ninja master.

**Success**

Zartan hadn't intended to be ready this early, but Onihashi let him out sooner than normal. Zartan didn't really mind, it just meant he could get this stupid hit over with and settle down with his life. Now, he was staring out the side of the helicopter, counting down the seconds to when he would shoot one ninja-in-training.

Finally, they arrived. Zartan picked up a pair of headphones and put them on, wincing a little as the sensitive amplifiers picked up the noises around him. Luckily the stupid helicopter was somehow modified to be (mostly) silent, or he would've been strongly tempted to shoot the pilot and be done with it. Instead he picked up his bow, prayed to every god he could think of that Tomisaburo Arashikage would never discover him, and took a deep breath.

Closing his eyes, Zartan took aim at the heartbeat to the right and fired. The shape shifter allowed himself only a brief moment of satisfaction as he heard the arrow hit home. Then, he removed the headphones and ordered the pilot to make as swift an exit as possible. No need to stick around and wait for someone to chase him.

Back in the Arashikage compound, Tommy moved to chase the murderer. Just as he was turning in the direction of the arrow's flight, though, a bony hand clasped his shoulder.

"You won't reach the murderer in time, boy. Come sit with your friend. He doesn't have much time left," The Hard Master barely finished his sentence before Tommy brushed past him. The old man knew he should probably criticize the boy for treating his elders so rudely, but decided he could let it go this once. After all, his best friend was dying in the other room.

**Harshness**

"Bring him back, alive or not," the Soft Master tried, with a certain amount of success, to keep all emotion from his voice. Snake Eyes looked like he wanted to say something, but instead hurried from the room as though the Soft Master had put a virtual death sentence on him instead of his best friend. And there was no denying it, that was exactly what his decree was. None of the members of the Arashikage clan, not even Snake Eyes, would be able to bring Tommy back alive.

The Soft Master let out a soft rush of breath, shutting his eyes and leaning against a wall. He was the head of the clan now, the only head, and in this situation he hadto act as his brother would.

"Do not be too harsh," his brother's last words rang in his head, and he shook them away. Harsh was exactly what he had to be. It was what his brother was, with his impossible standards and stoic dismissal of failures, and his brother had been the one to keep the clan holding on in an era where hiring assassins was becoming a social taboo instead of an integral part of politics. It would be easier to keep it all together by sticking with successful tactics.

Besides, the Soft Master wanted to keep at least some part of his brother alive.

* * *

><p>AN: I find it incredible amusing that Trust is at least twice as long as any of the other ficlets, considering that I don't like Zartan all that much (compared to the ninjas, who are my faves). This fic was inspired by my frequent musing on how incredibly plot-holey the entire situation with the Hard Master is. I mean, there were at LEAST three people with Seeing Ear in the area and none of them was able to catch the dang arrow...and neither of the Master's were able to figure out/just friggen' say that Storm Shadow was innocent. So I came up with four and a half deathfixfics, with the hope that one or two of them might be enjoyable to you guys. Please R&R


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